


White lies

by GreyWeeknds



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:44:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyWeeknds/pseuds/GreyWeeknds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has always been a guy who sheds lies as easily as others breathe. When he meets Niall, a shy and uncertain lad at a club, they have sex. What he doesn’t know is that Niall is there to stay, and soon his entire reality begins to fall apart. </p><p>When he later breaks his heart, Harry doesn’t know if he can ever win the blonde back. Perhaps he should just feel instead of understand love, because if he ever wants Niall back, he needs to man up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White lies

It’s 8:00 am when Harry wakes up with a loud groan, dragging his hand over his tired face as he looks at the empty side of the bed, nothing but a white pillow that keeps him company through the lonely nights.

He looks at the clock on the bedside table and sighs highly, how could he be so fucking stupid to forget to set the alarm? He should’ve been up for over an hour ago, been all showered and dressed. It’s by this time that he should eat his breakfast, not just been newly awake.

Something lands on the mattress at the end of the bed, slowly sneaking forward as four paws touch his bare legs that are twisted around the Egyptian white sheets.

“Not now Dusty, go away.”  He yawns.

The black cat with the white patterns doesn’t seem to understand a word he says, either that or he doesn’t care, because he emphasizes his furry chin against Harry’s cold cheek.

A laugh escapes his lips as two big yellow orbs looks into his, with a glance that says; ‘Please daddy, stay home and cuddle with me the whole day’. He can’t help but smile at the smart creature, because he’s almost manipulated to obey for him. But when he feels his phone buzzing, he groans once again.

“Hello?” he answers irritated.

“Harry? You’re late. The boss wonders where the hell you are.” Zayn hisses in his ear.

 _Damn, work. I didn’t thought about that,_ he thinks. He glances to the wardrobe, and yes indeed, the grey suit almost greets him evilly as his eyes travels down the ironed sleeves.

“I’m stuck in traffic. I don’t know when I’ll be able to get out of this car queue. On the radio they said something about that a accident occurred a bit earlier before I arrived here.” He lies.

“Oh, okay then. Come as soon as you can.” Zayn says before the dial tone surrounds Harry’s ear.

 _Nothing but a white lie,_ he tells himself. It’s okay if it’s just a quick little saviour, something that just slips easily from his soft lips. It would’ve been worse if he just had been lying straight up the tanned face, lying about something serious. When he thinks about it, he actually lies for the company’s favour, and it’s not in any way selfish.

“Perhaps I can stay a few minutes with you Dust, but then I have to put on those fancy clothes and get ready for work.” He whispers before he snuggles his face into the smaller one.

When he breaks away, the cat wrinkles its nose as it looks at him with an annoying gaze. He chuckles lightly before he gets up from the bed and goes out to the kitchen, marble touching his naked feet.

The big hands grips a bowl that’s been standing in the dish rack, before he fills it with cereal and milk. He puts the spoon into his mouth as the food travels down his tongue, through his throat and then it finally reaches his belly. It feels warm and good in his tummy, and he smiles as the nice taste fills his mouth.

 _Can’t it be Saturday’s every day, the whole damn week?_  He wishes. He could get drunk and party the whole nights, shag some handsome bloke, and then go home to Dusty and cuddle with him until the morning where he could do all the same things he did the day before once again.

He just leaves the dishes on the table; his mother will probably just break into his house so that she can clean her son’s dirty laundry anyway, so she can take away his used dishes too.

When he steps into the shower, he feels the hot water that pours out of the silvery hose. It embraces his body smoothly, and his crotch feels tighter as he presses the shower piece against the skin on his thighs. Harry whimpers from his own touches, because it feels so  _good._ As his fingers trails over his hips, around his torso, he moans lightly. He’s always been great with pleasuring himself, always known where the right spots on his own body are.

As his fingertips brushes around his lower region, he gulps loudly, and then he turns off the water and continues to stroke it. He shouldn’t be doing this right now, he reminds himself, he should be sitting in his car, as those stupid pigeons would be flying in front of the wheels so that he could mutter some angry curses. Yet it doesn’t feel that inappropriate to do it in this moment, because he’s having far too much fun.

His cheeks turn in dozens of red shades as he continues to stroke himself; eyelids flutter, as he feels this little warm pulsing feeling under his bellybutton. When he spreads his seed, he looks at it in disgust as it flows down in the drain. But he can’t help to feel a bit proud over how good he was once again, because he cum in only three minutes, and that means something.

When he sees meets those yellow orbs again, he jumps a little, before a tiny blush crawls up on his cheeks. Suddenly he doesn’t feel like he wants to continue rubbing himself as his cat looks at him with an amusingly gaze.

 

When he reaches the office he can feel thousands of eyes being burnt into his neck. Awkwardly he corrects the pink striped tie before he knocks on the wooden door and walks into the conference room. On the table there’s coffee cups, and he can feel the need to have one himself. Even though he had a quick wank before, it doesn’t take away the tiredness. He could easily fall asleep if he was handed a pillow and a duvet.

“Harry.” Mr Horan says sternly.

“Bobby.” He nods back before he sits down on one of the chairs around the long table.

The older man takes a deep breath as he brushes away his annoyance on the new arrived brunette.

Harry meets Zayn’s gaze, he looks surprisingly pale for his skin colour, and his temple is shiny of sweat. He knows that the older kid is really afraid of Mr Horan, and he has all the right to be just that. Because apparently everything that happens is Zayn’s fault, and Harry has the feeling it’s because he’s a foreigner. He’s almost certain that Mr Horan has made it to be that it’s the tanned lad’s fault that Harry is late to work, and he feels the guilt that is slowly starting to boil up.

“Zayn.” He whispers.

He only ignores Harry, and the guilt that was building inside of his body, has suddenly disappeared.

He hates it when Zayn tries to impress their boss by listening to every word he says, writing down everything on his computer. Harry can still hear when Bobby once accused him for surfing on the internet on his working hours, and when he tried to show Mr Horan that he indeed had written down every sentence that he had uttered, their boss had just brushed it off and blamed him for being more interested in writing down all he says, instead of actually being a part of the conversation and contribute.

“Zayn.” He says again, this time a little louder.

The amber eyes look at him pleadingly to just shut up, but he doesn’t care. He needs to tell him what he wanted to say, and if he doesn’t, he’ll explode.

“What is it?” he hisses quietly, mouth not even making a face that shows that he’s actually talking.

“When I was driving to work, there was this man, must have been at least around fifty years old, and when our gazes met, I knew that he wanted me.”

When he had told his friend about his little morning story, Harry saw that he looked extremely annoyed. He had thought that he would be happy for him, even though it almost happened to him every day; it was something that he liked to shed with him. He should be proud over that men gets so easily turned on by him, but he guesses it his curls. They’re like some charm, and if he just messes them around, he can get a bloke fall head over heals for him.

“You mean that you disturbed me for telling me that a guy was horny when he looked at you this morning? It’s your fault if I’ve missed anything…”

“Mr Malik, why are you talking to Harry when I’m going through the annual income?” Bobby wonders with a stern voice.

“I-I, I wasn’t t-talking…” he stutters.

“You were. I thought that you had learned since the last time that you disturbed the staff meetings. But apparently you haven’t.” he says before he carries on with the business speech.

Harry looks at his friend with a sad face before he looks towards the older man that is pointing at a colourful diagram. He can’t find the interest to listen to him, and he knows that Zayn will tell him later on what he has said anyway, that’s what’s friends are for.

He’s not going to bring up the subject that he saw a small tear fall down the darker one’s cheek. He pretends that it’s unnoticed, and he would be a shitty friend if he would shove it into his face.

-

The blonde that had been looking him out the whole night waves his fingers to the bartender, before he pays another drink and sends it to Harry. He winks his eye at the older guy with the bleached locks before he goes out on the dance floor again, grinding his body against a hot stranger.

The music is pounding in his ears, and the body heat from all the bodies radiates and he can feel the sweat that drips from his spine, and drenches his clothes. It’s not the best feeling in the world, but he’s used to it. Always feeling wet, horny and drunk.

The guy turns around, and a smug smirk appeared on his lips.

“You’re really hot curly!” the stranger shouts loudly so that his voice won’t be drowned by the music.

Like he said, his curls are magical.

“Thanks!” he yells back.

He knows that he is looking good tonight, not that he doesn’t usually doesn’t look great, but tonight he is looking even better. His hair is a bit messy, so it doesn’t seems like he tried to much, but the black oversize tank with the dark skinny jeans makes him look really attractive if he can say so himself.

He feels that the bloke’s index finger and thumb is pinching his arse lightly, and a giggle escapes his lips as he feels the body is grinding closer against him.

“I can’t wait to get you out of those tight trousers of yours, doll.”

Harry entwines his sweaty fingers with the taller lad’s before he drags him out from the dance floor, and into one of the toilets, their legs wobbling like crazy. They hasn’t almost made it through the door before two wet lips is pressed onto his. It doesn’t taste that good to be honest, a bit of vomit and alcohol fills his mouth as the tongue is shoved into his.

His nose is filled with the scent of smoke, and he smells even worse than Zayn when he’s having a bad day, needing to take a cigarette. And when the flashing fluorescent reaches his face, Harry sees that the stranger didn’t look that good to be honest that he first thought. Sure, he isn’t ugly, but he isn’t that pretty either. It isn’t really that fair if Harry shags him, because let’s be honest, it doesn’t look that good if a hot guy fucks a mediocre one.

“Damn!” Harry exclaims.

He breaks away from the man, and he meet two confused brown eyes. He knows that he will feel hurt if Harry tells him the truth that he isn’t at all turned on him anymore; he chooses that it would be better if he just lies to him. It isn’t like it something serious, just a white little lie like the one before.

“What is it?” the hazel haired asks.

“I’m so sorry. But my boyfriend is waiting for me at the disk, and if he walks in on us, I’m never getting him back again.”

“Really?” he asks with a voice that admits that he doesn’t believe the slightest word Harry is telling him.

“Really.” He states.

 

Harry drags him out into the club again, and when he sees the blonde that had been checking him out before, he glues his lips onto his, before he looks at the tall guy again, and shrugs his shoulders apologetically.

Fingers find his neck, and they’re massaging his scalp as he moves his lips in a slow pace.

When he breaks away from the smaller lad, he meet two mesmerizing blue eyes, and he wonders why the hell he didn’t saw them before. They look really beautiful, and Harry wants to take them out of his eye sockets and put them in his heart forever.

“What was that for?” he wonders as his thick Irish accent fills Harry’s ears.

“Just needed to get rid of that persistent chap over there.” He answers as he points at the torso that is getting smaller and smaller by every second.

“Oh.” The blonde breathes out.

He feels quite bad, because the Irish had been buying him drinks all night, and as thanks, Harry had just ignored him and stroked himself into some cheap bloke instead. But now that he has seen how pretty the lad actually is, he isn’t going to let him slip out of his grip that easily.

“I’m Harry by the way.”

“I’m Niall.” He says a little bit cheerier this time.

“Thanks for the drinks,” He adds “they were really good, and I wish that I could thank you in some way.”

The blonde only smiles as he blushes fiercely, and Harry thinks that he looks extremely adorable as he almost turns into this innocent little boy. Niall opens his mouth, but closes it, it seems like he wants to say something, but he’s too scared to actually utter it aloud.

“No problem really, just happy that you didn’t get freaked out, or thought that I was trying to get you drunk.”

“No really, I wish that I could  _thank_  you in some possible way.” Harry smirks, and it seems like Niall finally understands what he means.

They rush out of the club and Niall leans against Harry’s big black car on the pavement as Harry lets his own fingers get under the white tee shirt. He has to admit that he’s quite surprised when he feels the abs under his fingertips, he had been certain that Niall wasn’t one of those types who worked out, thought that he would only be one of those pathetic guys who plays video games the whole afternoons, nothing but wearing boxers as they have a bag of chips in their laps.

When Niall begins to squirm by his touch and giggles loudly, Harry feels rather annoyed. He isn’t used to be laughed at when he tries to get the guy he’s trying to seduce horny, and it doesn’t help when the Irish only pushes away his hand.

“Sorry, I’m just very tickly.” He chuckles.

“Oh.” Harry smiles understandingly, relieved that he wasn’t laughing at him because he thought that his caressing was amusing.

He wets his lips before he presses them against Niall’s, and the chuckle dies out, and instead it turns into a small circle that lets the brunette’s tongue slip in.

He tastes a lot better than the bloke at the club. Niall’s mouth tastes really sweet, just like he’s whole appearance. And he smells terrific too, expensive cologne filling his nostrils. It’s something that doesn’t seem to fit together, how he can smell so expensive, but look so poor.

“My place or yours?” Harry asks.

“Mine.” He claims before the taller lad pushes his smaller body into the car, the kiss still ghosting on his lips.

 

He presses the key that Niall handed him over into the keyhole desperately; all he wants is to feel his body thrusting under his.

He’s not the hottest lad that Harry has taken to his apartment, but he sure as hell is the cutest one. His eyes looks at him with two fondly eyes and Harry’s heart melts by the look of them. He can see the lust in the blue orbs, and all he wants to do is to fulfil his wishes.

“It looks really fancy here, doesn’t it? A bit too fancy if you ask me.” Niall murmurs into Harry’s mouth.

“Mm,” he moans “but I bet it looks even fancier in the bedroom.”

He doesn’t know whatever it is that makes him lift the tiny body into his arms, carrying him before he places him on the enormous bed. Perhaps it is that he reminds Harry so much of a virgin, or that he behaves like every moment with the younger lad is fragile and that he has to be careful so that Harry won’t slip out of his grip. But when he sees Niall staring at him with two admiring eyes, he just seems to lose it, and he pushes his lips roughly against Niall’s as he places his own body onto the Irish’s.

“God, you’re so damn sexy.” Harry mumbles under his breath.

“You’re too,” He flushes before his shirt is ripped off, buttons fallen off, and his naked stomach is touching Harry’s bare one “and Harry, you’re going to stay, right?”

“Of course I will.”

He pulls the white duvet over them before he shifts Niall’s body around, so that his back is pressed against his chest as he ghosts tiny feather kisses over his torso. He lets his fingers brush Niall’s crotch, and he can feel how hard he is.

“Damn, you’re really horny, aren’t you?” Harry asks, and it feels like he is speaking in tongue.

The older bloke only nods his head before he whimpers when he feels the other person’s hand touching his swollen and pulsing penis.

It’s a bit cold, but Harry doesn’t care as all he wants to do is to making the blonde scream out his name in the silent flat. It sounds like music to his ears when the breaths that comes from Niall’s mouth becomes deeper and deeper. He has never met anyone that can sound so hot by just breathing, but he guesses that Niall is that one special of a million.

He scrapes his nails over his back, licking his tongue over the tiny marks that appear. Niall’s muscles tenses before he throws his head back, soft locks hitting Harry in the face.

The dick twitches under his fingers, and he wants to tell him how damn hot he is, but in some way it feels like he will ruin the moment if he does. Because words aren’t necessary when the body takes control, it’s just the emotions that can speak right then and there.

He has three fingers inside of Niall; he’s curling and stretching him before he enters him. He whimpers in pain when Harry thrusts into him, but after just a minute or two after adjusting himself, he begins to moan in pleasure instead. His gaps are getting deeper, and a tear falls down from his eye. He rocks his hips sensually, and Niall is sending him a toothy smile as he lays his hand over Harry’s in a protecting way.

“Urgh… it feels so good.” He mumbles; his cheeks covered in crimson as his body rocks back and forward like a boat on the sea.

He buries his teeth into the white skin, red marks being made over his body.  _He looks even more beautiful like this_ , Harry thinks,  _now when there are tracks from me etched onto him._

“Damn Harry, I think I’m going to cum any second now.” He whines when the brunette moves even closer into him.

It triggers him, and he’s harder when he hears that Niall just breathes half breathes, his belly going up and down so much that Harry can feel his ribcage when he holds him strongly.

“Then cum for me.” He hisses into his ear as the blond hair is being stuck into his sweaty forehead.

He manages to last a few minutes longer before everything goes white, he can hear his own name being screamed into the room. His heart hammers like crazy, and this is probably the best fuck he ever has had in his entire twenty-one year old life.

 

When Niall wakes up the next day, there’s no trail of that a person has ever sheared his bed with him the night before. There’s not even a single note on the pillow, just a forgotten sock on the floor as the guy must have rushed away from his apartment, not wanting to wake up beside him.

He can’t help that his heart feels a bit heavier when he sees all those images of them holding hands in public, kissing each other tenderly, being ripped off from his mind.

He can’t believe that he was so stupid that he had thought that him and Harry was getting together, he was nothing more than a hook-up, and Niall is grateful over that he never told him that this was the first time that he was clubbing, and the first time that he was shagging a random stranger.

-

He pulls up his boxers over his bony hips; his body still feels warm since yesterday. In some way, he had wanted to stay with the boy, as he would hug him tenderly and place small kisses in his neck. He wanted to wake up in the morning, cuddling as the sun would shine through the skylight, and their faces would glow magnificent together. He could even take one of Niall’s shirt on him as he would cook them breakfast, radio playing silently in the background.

But then if he would stay, he would have to stay another day. And one day would turn into two, and suddenly he would be stuck in a relationship with a person who would love him when he couldn’t love him back.

He hopes that Niall has forgotten him, that he was just another guy that he had shagged, a new face on just another dick. But the way he had looked into Harry’s eyes when he laid sprawled over the bed; it had been like there wasn’t anything more precious in the world than him.

He picks up his phone and dials Zayn’s number; he hopes that he isn’t asleep. And even if he is, he has to speak to Harry when he’s having such a bad conscious.

“Hello?”

“Zayn, I need to talk to you.”

“What is it Haz?”

He takes a deep breath and looks into the air. He never ever thinks about the guys he shags the next day, he’s used to forget their faces, and sometimes have a sore bum as a reminder of the day before enjoyment.

“Yester, I fucked this lad. And usually I’m just okay with that, but today I’m afraid that he’s hurt.” He says.

“How so?”

“Because, I promised him to stay, but I didn’t.”

When he hears Zayn’s disappointed voice, he places the phone on his desk before he jumps into his shower. Sure, he felt quite bad for what he did for a while. But when he heard Zayn cursing over him for being an utter idiot, the guilt transformed into anger.

He has no right to judge Harry, to call him a man-whore. It’s his choice if he wants to fuck guys every night, feeling them under himself as he breathes deeply in their ears, telling them how beautiful they are, and give them false hopes that he will be that man that they want.

If you think about it, he actually is. Because for a night he fulfils their dreams, and it’s not his fault that the day after, they gets crushed into dust.

 

“Harry, I want to talk to you.” Mr Horan says.

He stares at the man suspiciously; he wonders what’s going through his head. Bobby usually never gets angry at him like he does on Zayn, but he’s sure hell isn’t one of his favourites either.

When a small false smile spreads on his lips, Harry feels more worried than before, because he could recognise that smile even in his sleep. He’s unreliable, gets outrages in the middle of their meetings, then sometimes he’s a cheery chap that rests his arm around his co-workers necks as he greets them with a ‘good day, isn’t it? The weather is getting even sunnier on Thursday’.

“My son just came here from Ireland, and I want you to teach my son the company, right from scratch,” He claims; arms crossed over his chest “I want him to take over my company one day, and for the moment he hasn’t been that interested in doing so. So, I thought that if a younger man, just like you, showed him that this work can actually be… fun, he might change his mind.”

“Okay then, when will my new assignment begin?” Harry wonders, as he feels quite annoyed over that he will have to take care of a little child that will around his legs.

“Next Monday. He just arrived from his mum’s, so he wants to take the week off before he starts here.”

Harry only nods before he walks into his office, sighing loudly as he corrects the collar on his suit.

“Fuck!” he mutters, before he throws his body into the computer chair, curls dangling on the edge of backrest.

He hates children and not even when he was one, he liked them. How can his boss actually think that he is the proper man for teaching his own son, the next to be chief over Mr Horan’s big company? If he only knew how Harry usually spend his weekends, getting into one of those filthy nightclubs as he pines a guy onto the wall before he sucks the lad’s dick. That doesn’t seem to be the best man to take care of his, what, like five year old son?

And how can some parents be so stupid? Children aren’t supposed to be learning economic, they’re supposed to eat worms and poke boogers.

He has no idea how old this kid really is, because he doesn’t know anything about Bobby Horan, more than he is extremely rich. For five minutes ago, he didn’t even have a clue that he had a son. Harry had always been certain that the man lived at the company at the nights, sitting with a glass of whiskey in his fancy tux, Sinatra singing in his stereo.

“What is it?” Zayn asks, as he appears in the office that the two of them share.

He yawns and rubs his eyes, a small itching feeling in his eyelids appearing. He can’t help it, but he loves to make the other man go mental until he finally says what’s weighing him down.

“It is just Bobby. He wants me to take care of his son from the start of next week.”

“I didn’t know that he had a son.” Zayn lets out.

“Really? I mean, don’t you know everything about him? Which colour he has on his underwear, or what his favourite juice is…” Harry mocks him.

“Oh just shut up Styles.” He groans before he hides his head behind the computer screen.

It is actually quite weird that Mr Horan doesn’t like Zayn, because he is probably his most devoted worker. He does everything in the slightest detail, and if something doesn’t turn out like it should, he begins from scratch and makes it into perfection.

“I’m only teasing you; relax your pretty little face, because you’re getting a wrinkle between your eyebrows when you’re frowning like that, and I’m quite certain you don’t want to destroy that face of yours.”

 

When he goes to bed that night, he imagines that this little whiny kid will be clutched around his leg, and the boy will be crying oceans before some Spanish nanny will take care of the little Horan-clone.

What if he looses him? He’s heard of those kids who sneak out onto the pavements, and then gets run over by the car. It’s never the driver or the parents who get the blame, no, instead it’s the nanny who has to sit in prison for the cause of another person’s death.

-

The scent of bacon and eggs makes him throw up inside his own throat. It isn’t that his mother doesn’t cook lovely food, because she does, but he still got the hangover from the last night, and it’s slowly killing him.

“Darling, how many eggs do you want?” she’s cooing.

“None.”

A hurt expression covers her face, and her eyes get really blurry. He hates it when she uses the mother card on him, making him drown in guilt. He’s so used to never have to think about anyone other than himself, that he actually had forgotten how disappointment looked like.

“Mum… I changed my mind, I’ll take two.” He gives in.

She smiles brightly as she hands the food over at his plate. He swallows the vomit that wants to be puked down in the toilet, and it disgusts him when he sees the yellow slurry move like Jell-O.

She almost drills holes into his eyes as she stares at him, waiting for him to take the first bite. He smiles at her before he puts the fork into the egg white and then puts it on his tongue. It slips down quite easily, but he can’t help but feeling more and more ill by every second.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” she asks proudly.

He fake moans as a response, not being able to open his mouth right away.

He’s getting more and more used to slip in these little white lies, but he can’t help it. He’s only making them happy, so it’s okay.

His mother would have been devastated if he would have told her the truth about him being disgusted by her food, so it’s actually doing some benefit in some way.

And she can’t ever complain again that he’s never doing something for other human beings if it doesn’t benefits him somehow.

-

The music waves are almost visible in the air, and bodies are jumping up and down on the floor like they’re on crack. He takes another sip from the glass, smirking at Zayn before he licks his tongue over the girl with the pink hair’s stomach, and sucks up the grog from her bellybutton.

The tiny hairs on her skin tickle lightly against his tongue, and she gasps, as there comes a small trail of saliva on her. He can hear her friends giggling in the background, whispering how hot they would make as a couple. What they don’t know is that he likes dicks, not cunts.

He notices the jealousy in the amber eyes when he’s up in the air again, and he wants to laugh, but he feels rather bad because his friend’s shows rarely interest for anyone, so she must be special.

He can’t even remember that he’s ever seen Zayn with a girl before, and he’s not gay, that he knows for sure. Because when they were teenagers, before they began working at Horan’s industries, Harry kissed him when he was still unsure of his sexuality. He’s glad that he didn’t freak out, and that he stayed as a friend, because he’s probably Harry’s only real friend.

When he dives down again to take another sip, he whispers quickly:

“My friend over there, he’s really attracted by you. You should give him a shot.”

She smiles happily as she jumps down from the bar and some alcohol drops slides down her bare tummy. In the corner of his eye, he sees her saying something to Zayn, and he nods with a smug smirk on his face.

The raven sends him a grateful glance before he scoots away from the club, his hand around her tiny waist. Harry feels proud over that he just arranged a quick fuck to his friend. Lately he seems to have a really dry cock, because his mood swings has been unbearable in the past months.

“Hello.” A voice says as someone is patting him on the shoulder.

He turns around, and a small guy that seems oddly familiar greets him.

“Harry!” the blonde says before he throws his arms around his neck, sniffing in his scent as he breathes out in relief.

The expensive cologne fills his nose, and he remembers that he has smelled it before. It’s Armani, and he hasn’t shagged that many guys that can afford those kind of fancy things.

“Niall?” he asks.

“Yeah,” His face drops and he fumbles with his feet “don’t you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you Niall!” he lies as he hugs the boy tenderly.

“Thank God, I was afraid for a second there.” He chuckles as he presses his lips to Harry’s jaw.

“I could never forget you.”

 

They fumble around in the dark apartment, bodies clashing against the cream coloured walls, as they can’t find the switch to turn on the light. There’s big difference since the last time they had sex, at then Niall was all pure and innocent, didn’t really know what to do as Harry took him, but know he hungrily ghosts his lips on Harry’s body, like he seeks after revenge since he left him.

This is the first time that he ever has come back to one of his old shags, so it’s a bit different. Because this time he knows where the right spots on Niall’s body is, where to dig his nails in, and he knows how freaking tight the boy is.

If Harry hadn’t known better, he would have guessed that he was a virgin before he met Harry. But the way Niall makes his entire body shiver when he bites his earlobe makes him think otherwise.

When he flicks the pink nipple that is almost looking at him, Niall groans loudly. Harry only chuckles as he licks it so it gets all pink and shiny, an artwork made by himself. It’s a bit weird that he wanted to come back to him; after all, he broke their promise to stay. But he doesn’t think too much into it, can’t, because when he feels Niall’s fingers diving under his white cotton shirt, the delicate skin meet his, his brain goes blank.

“You’re really eager.” He says boringly, but the wide smile on his lips makes Niall think that he isn’t so carefree like he pretends to be.

“You wouldn’t know half of it.” He replies before he strips out of his own clothes.

When Harry tries to shove the Irish into the sheets, Niall only shakes his head. Instead he gets on his knees, looking into the taller lad’s eyes for a sign to continue.

They’re magnificent blue, like two jewels being stolen from a big treasure, and hidden in his eye sockets. Before he unbuttons the jeans and takes Harry’s length into his own mouth, he looks at it like he’s considering if he really want to give himself again to the boy that broke his heart.

“You’re staying this time, right?” Niall asks pleadingly.

“Of course.” Harry lies before he moans out in pleasure.

The way Niall looks at him so innocent, even though he has a cock shoved into his mouth, makes Harry really turned on. He seems so fragile, like he can break by just one touch, so when he refuses to bend over so that Harry can fuck him, he feels a bit relived.

He digs his fingers into Niall’s bleached locks, massaging his scalp, as the boy turns even redder on his cheeks, traveling to his earlobes and down his neck. He’s like this small child trapped into a bigger guy’s body, and Harry can’t help but smile at him as he looks up at Harry with a gaze that almost screams for recognition that he does something right.

This warm little feeling begins to form into his crotch, and he knows that he soon has to cum. But he doesn’t tell the blonde, because he wants to see him swallow Harry’s taste. And his wish comes through, because the older lad wrinkles his nose when it slips down his throat before Harry captures his lips with his own, tasting himself on Niall’s tongue.

“That was so hot.” He murmurs into his mouth, not letting the kiss slip away.

He feels the blonde smiling against him, and he can’t help but smile back. It’s just a little cute peck, but it’s sweet like sugar, just like Niall is. And the blonde doesn’t seem to care about in that moment that Harry’s going to leave him just like the last time, because he’s happy that he has at least one more night with the curly that means much more for him than he really should do.

-

When he walks into the office the next day, Zayn is rushing to the elevator to greet him. His face is really rosy, and it looks like he hasn’t slept for days. But Harry can see that he finally dipped his dick into that girl, because the way he walks is the aisle of a yesterday’s hot sex.

“He’s here Haz, it’s Monday. Mr Horan’s son is waiting for you right now!” He slurs as he pushes Harry’s back forward, almost digging his nails into his ribs.

“Take it easy Zaynie, my blazer is getting wrinkly because of you handprints.”

“Yeah, well you’re late. So I don’t care about that your clothes gets wrinkly, because I refuse to take the blame for something you has done one more time.”

He doesn’t really know what the raven’s problem is, because it’s not his case if Harry comes late to work or not. It’s not like he is his mother or something, and Harry’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.

When he enters the room, he sees the one person that he would never expect to see ever again. The one person that he thought was out of his life forever.

Two baby blues eyes with a tint of gold in them looks up from a sports magazine, and they sort of light up when they see Harry. He smiles genuinely, and Harry plasters a fake grin on his face as he walks forward and feels his astonishment is gradually rising.

Why is Niall even here, at his working place? Is he one of those creepy guys that get obsessive after just a one-night stand? One of those who stalk and take pictures of him as he’s in his shower, and it’s weird that the guards have let him get in, this is a top class company, and to just let strangers pass in and by is a bit strange.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” he laughs as he jumps down from the desk and rushes over to the taller lad and hugs him lovingly.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The brunette states sternly as he looks down on the smaller bloke, the awkwardness that he feels, Niall doesn’t seem to notice.

“My father asked me to give this place a try, some guy was going to learn me some new stuff so that I can take over his business sometime, but he hasn’t showed up yet.”

“You’re Bobby’s son?” he gasps, “I’m the guy.”

“Oh.” He smirks as he clings onto Harry’s arm. “Perhaps this will be a lot better than I first thought then.”

Zayn looks like he is going to choke his takeaway coffee when Niall presses his lips onto Harry’s hand that he is holding hardly. Harry doesn’t know what to do, what do say, to make the other guy to just go away. It’s like he thinks that Harry actually cares about him, that he’s more than the guy that he shagged two times, and the last one is almost isn’t counting, as he hadn’t been allowed to fuck him.

When Mr Horan enters the room, he looks at the way the two boys is standing so close, fingers being entwined. Niall doesn’t even seem to be bothered that his father can see them, almost clinging at each other.

Harry feels the panic that is slowly starting to whelm over him, what if he gets fired for sexual harassment? The whole world seems to weigh down on his shoulders, and his palms are getting really sweaty. He feels like he is a butterfly that a scientist is investigating, and he could pass out any second now.

The blonde rubs his thumb comfortingly over the younger lad’s hand, like he thinks that Harry is afraid of his dad. Well he is afraid, but not because he’s some boyfriend that has just been introduced to his coming father-in-law, but because he’s so scared that he will kick his arse and let the guards throw him out.

“Father.” Niall says as his entire body stiffens and he lets Harry’s hand loose.

 _Finally,_ he thinks as he dries off the sweat on his trousers. He didn’t like the way Niall made him feel like a possession, something that he owned. Harry is a free creature, and not even a cute lad can change that.

He’s never been someone’s boyfriend, and he’ll never be that either. He’ll always just be the greatest fuck to those guys that has had the luck to have him for an hour or so. And he never wants to change that.

“I see that you already know my son.” Bobby says as he closes the door.

Harry clears his throat before a wimpy yes escapes his lips, a blush crawling upon his cheeks.

When Niall looks at him with pity in his eyes, he feels humiliated. It’s like it doesn’t even matter that Harry doesn’t want to have something to do with him, that he just wanted Niall’s name to be a new add on his long fuck-list.

When he tries to get Zayn to comprehend that he needs him to save him out of this situation, he only escapes through the door and Harry reminds himself that he will never help him get a girl in the bed ever again.

“So how do you two know each other?” Bobby says like he doesn’t care, but Harry can see in his eyes that he’s furious, and that he wants to shot Harry in the head if he just had a gun in his hand at the moment.

“He’s just a friend.” Niall says, and Harry can’t help but feeling a little hurt.

Sure he doesn’t want to be anything other, but he isn’t used to be the one that someone else hides. He’s usually the one who tells other’s dads that they’re just friends. “We met in Ireland once when Harry and his football team had a match against my team back home. Then we stayed in contact, so that’s about it.”

The way Mr Horan clenches his jaw tells him that he hasn’t bought the lie that the Irish just made up, and to be honest, Harry wouldn’t either if he had been in the older man’s expensive Prada shoes.

 

“Why the fuck didn’t you help me out before?” Harry exclaims, one curl getting in the way for his sight as he crushes the cookie in his hand.

“It’s your own fault if you shag the boss’s son.” Zayn mutters as he inhales the smoke from the fag.

“Thanks for that,  _arsehole_.”

Zayn is slowly starting to get on his nerves, always trying to be the perfect guy, as everybody seems to loathe everything he does.

As the rain drops falls down on his clothes, he hurries into his apartment as the shorter lad is running behind him. Perhaps he can just refuse to let him in, just see him outside from the window as the rain is drenching the raven. But he isn’t that heartless, he’s not some inhuman monster that lets his friends get a cold just because he’s feeling a little bit grumpy.

“Still. I can’t believe you actually did have the dirty with him.” Zayn says as he throws his hands up into the air.

“And I can’t believe that you’re still so surprised over it.” He mutters as he drags his hand through his messy hair, “I mean, I didn’t know who he were, so you can’t really count it as I have slept with the boss’s son.”

The cat appears out from nothing, and this is the first time today that Harry really smiles as he snuggles his face into the soft black fur. Dusty feels like silk under his skin, and if he could, then he would put him in a backpack and carry him with him everywhere that he goes. He’s the only one in the world that can calm him.

“Dust is the only thing that I’m able to ever love.” Harry mumbles fondly as he paws the cat’s back.

Dusty purrs silently, and Harry can’t express over how grateful he is that he has his little friend that can light up his day by just biting him in the toe as Dusty thinks it’s a mouse. He looks satisfied into Harry’s green eyes before he closes his own and enjoys the caressing that his owner gives him.

“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” Zayn asks as he puts some sugar into his coffee.

“Dust means everything to me.” Harry says with affection.

He closes his eyes, and he lets himself forget everything about his coming problem with Niall Horan. He tries not to think about that he might get trapped into a relationship that he doesn’t want to be a part of, and that he might even loose his job if he breaks the elder’s heart.

-

His body is pushed onto the wall, and fingers are touching him on every possible spot on his body. He only stands there, not moving a muscle, as hungry lips trails down his neck, over his collarbone.

It’s not until his nipple is flicked that he gives up under the touch. He transforms to this craving animal, and he thinks that it’s not his fault that he has sex with the chief’s son. Niall’s old enough to be responsible for his own actions; Harry’s not his babysitter.

“Damn, I’ve wanted to this ever since last month when I saw you at the office, looking so sexy and nervous.” A husky voice hisses.

“That sounds like a great combination.” Harry says with sarcasm before he kisses the blonde.

“I think so.” Niall replies truthfully.

He fipples the blond locks between his thumb and index finger, seeing how it seems to be made for his hand as it caresses him tenderly.

“I understand that you don’t care about me Harry, that I’m just another dumb overly attached guy. But I want you to know, that I care about you, and that’s all that matters for now.” Niall admits.

Smooth fingers are brushing against his jaw lovingly as he moves his lips slowly.

It tastes better to kiss him this time, now when neither of them is drunk, and they’re both aware of what they’re doing. He could easily stay like this forever, even though he has a life, it feels good that there’s someone that cares for him more than that he’s just a guy that’s been picked up from the club because he has a fantastic arse.

It’s just them there, and it’s the first time that Harry feels intimate with someone. That he actually wants Niall to feel good too, that he isn’t just some random fuck.

“I care about you too.” He lies, his conscious weighing down as he utter the false words.

“You do?” Niall asks, and suddenly he looks extremely vulnerable as his bright eyes sparkles like stars and looks up to him hopefully.

When did Harry become this pathological liar? A person who can just say stuff that isn’t true so easily, and not even being able to stop himself?

“I do.”

He can feel Niall’s heart beating like a drum against his chest as he hugs him tightly, and he feels bad that he gives him false hopes. But the lie just slipped out, and it was too late to take it back when he already had said it out loud.

They’re huddled behind the desk in Harry and Zayn’s room, and it feels exciting that they can get caught any minute. He can hear in his ear how the older bloke whispers how much he means to him, and his heart feels a little bit heavier when he doesn’t answer him.

That’s the thing that he likes the most about Niall, that he’s not scared to show how much he feels about Harry, even though they’ve only shagged three times. And he wishes that he could love Niall, because he seems like one of those persons who people fall in love with. But he’s not capable to love, and Harry feels sad that he’s hurting him by not doing so.

He wants to be that person who can take out his boyfriend to dinner on Valentine’s Day, buying him presents and being satisfied to only have him. Not needing other guys in his bed, not wanting others. He’s jealous that he isn’t like that, but he can’t just change so easily.

Harry breaks away from his touch, and he leaves him frozen and desperate as Harry walks away. When he comes back, only a minute later, Niall looks hurt and broken, and he knows by the look that there’s no escape for him to run away now.

His under lip is trembling, and for a moment it looks like he’s going to cry. He’s once again this hurt sparrow, and Harry just wants to embrace him and tell him that everything is okay.

He shows him a condom, and the sadness exchanges to a smug smirk. The blue-eyed takes Harry’s hand on his own crotch, and he can feel his growing erection. He wonders whenever it was that he changed from that shy and pure angel, to this wild and dangerous devil?

He unzips the baggy jeans, and looks at the big and pulsing willy that’s hiding in his boxers. He decides that he wants to tease him, make him plead to come inside of his pretty little bum.

His tongue trails slowly over the waistband of his black Calvin Klein, and Niall let’s out a soft moan as his body shivers by Harry’s touch. He knows the older boy wants him, but he’s going to have to wait, he’s not going to do him until he  _really_ wants him, begging him to entrance him.

“Damn Haz, don’t fucking tease me.” He growls as Harry snickers by his unsteady voice. “Just get on with it, before I’ll explode.”

He’s got flawless skin, all white and soft, like marble. Harry’s determined to make that pale skin glow when he’s done with him, hickeys on his chest.

He pulls down his boxers, taking his fingers and scissoring him. At first he cries out in pain, but he swiftly adjust himself as Harry begins to roll his hips slowly.

Perhaps it’s okay that he likes Niall just a little bit, it’s not like it’s actually hurting someone.

 

When they’re done, names being moaned into the night, Harry pretends that he is asleep as he’s pressed against Niall’s chest. He doesn’t make any sign that he notices the way Niall strokes back his hair tenderly behind his ear as he places tiny kisses on his scalp, breath making tiny water drops on his neck, and his whole inside shivers by the coldness blended with heat.

He pretends that he doesn’t hear the rich soon-to-be-boss, saying that he’s care about him so much, and that he is so happy that he finally feels the same way about him. When he hears how Niall’s breaths becomes deeper and deeper until they finally turns into snores, he unfolds himself from the tight grip and presses a sweet peck on his forehead before he takes the blanket and places it over his small body.

It’s better if they let it stop here, that they from now on becomes co-workers and nothing more. Yet he comprehends that Niall will never accept that, and that his heart will be crushed by Harry.

He lets himself take a few minutes to just study the adorable boy that’s sleeping on the wooden floor. He hopes that Niall won’t break too much as he leaves him, making him feel lonelier than he has ever felt in his entire life.

-

He sips at the coffee that Zayn bought to him, it literally taste like shit. It’s cheap, and it’s not anywhere near the cost of his own coffee that he bought to himself.

 _You selfish son of a bitch,_ he mutters in his own head.

He would never buy such a shitty coffee to his friend, but perhaps he doesn’t mean so much to him, as he does to Harry.

His morning has been horrible, Dusty had puked on the floor, and the taller man hadn’t seen it, so he stepped in the vomit. And when he was going to make himself a sandwich, there hadn’t been any bread at home, so he still hasn’t eaten something, and it’s almost twelve o’clock.

He’s glad that he hasn’t met Niall yet, because he’s not sure that he will be able to look into those broken and disappointed blue eyes. And what scares him the most is that perhaps he hasn’t taken the hint, that maybe he thinks that Harry hasn’t left him.

When he takes another sip from the coffee, he makes a strange face to show the tanned lad how disgusting it really is.

“So how’s it going with Blondie?” Zayn smirks, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, just shut up Malik, or else I’ll tell Bobby who it was that broke his records last month at the staff party.”

Zayn narrows his amber eyes, before his mouth turns to a straight line.

“You wouldn’t,” he says “and by the way, it wasn’t me, it was you.”

The anger starts to boil in his body, and it really disturbs him how Zayn always has to be so fucking uptight every freaking minute.

“Yeah, well, who do you think he’s going to believe? Me or the foreign kid that still hasn’t gotten a raise, even though he has worked here longer than me. Think about it Zayn, you’re nothing but a loser, and you’re always going to stand in my shadow.”

He knows that he went to far, because Zayn rises from his chair and looks at him one last time before he rushes out of the room, mumbling something about that he doesn’t remember whenever it was that he turned into this selfish upright idiot.

In his mind he can see him fumbling with his cigarettes, burning tears behind his eyes, as he has to bite down his bottom lip. He knows that he hurt the raven, because even though he is Harry’s only friend, he’s also knows that he’s Zayn only friend too. They’ve known each other since they met on kindergarten, and it was the older boy who fixed him the job at Horan’s industries. They’ve been inseparable since they were kids, but lately they’ve beginning to fall apart more and more.

He wishes that he could take the words back, and when he is about to go after him and apologize, he hears someone entering the room.

He turns the chair around, and the blonde is walking over to him, before he sits in his lap and presses his lips to Harry’s jaw.

He mumbles something about that he’s itchy, and that he needs to shave. But how on earth was he supposed to do that this morning when he had so much other stuff going on in his mind?

“Go away Niall.” He moans quietly.

“Don’t be afraid, I locked the door. Nobody’s going to walk in on us.” He snickers before he kisses the brunette’s closed eyelids tenderly.

He forgets about the promise to leave him, when Niall begins to roll his hips on him, making his crotch tight as he continues with the friction.

How can he make him feel so damn good all the time, make him feel so much better than he actually is? It’s weird, because he’s never been attached to another human being before, and it sort of scares him. He’s always been on his own, and now when Niall’s beginning to tear down his wall that he has built around him, it makes him feel sick.

“You need to go away Ni. We can’t continue doing this.” He says, this time a bit sharper.

“What do you mean?” the Irish wonders, looking more confused than ever.

“I mean that this is wrong. You’re my boss’s son for God’s sake!”

“But if we keep this as a secret, then please can we continue this relationship of ours, or whatever this it?” he pleads, eyes getting really blurry, “I’m not asking you to be my boyfriend how much I even want to, because I know you don’t do boyfriends, but I’m asking you to not leave me.” He says as his voice cracks in the last two words.

Harry sighs as he dries away the cold tear that slides down on the heart broken boy’s baby cheek. He hadn’t thought that he meant so much to him; sure he knew that he was more than a hook-up, but he hadn’t imagined that he was going to cry.

How could he be so stupid? Blonde boys from small countries doesn’t just fuck, they falls in love. They’re not like him and Zayn, they’re vulnerable, and they can break so easily.

“Ni, please be honest with me now, because I’m only going to ask you this one time.” Niall only nods his head as he sobs silently and a hiccup escapes his lips. A blush crawls onto his tiny ears that makes Harry’s belly flutter. “Are you in love with me? And not just like a crush, but really in love with me?”

He nods once again, and a stone falls down in the taller lad’s stomach. It wasn’t going to go this far, if he had just been honest from the beginning, and told him that he wasn’t looking after a ‘relationship’; everything would have been so much simpler now.

His mum used to say to him when he was small, that love wasn’t something to take easy on. That if it comes flying, you should catch it, and capture it in your heart forever. But he can’t, because he doesn’t understands love. It feels like when love passed by, it forgot to touch him.

“I don’t do love, I’ve never comprehended the great thing about it.” He claims, and Niall’s face looks even more miserable than before. “But I want to, because I think you’re worth it. I want you to make me understand it, I want you to make me love you.” He whimpers.

“You can’t make someone love you Harry, it just happens. But if you want to love me, then don’t be so freaking tense all the time, and try to  _feel_ instead of understand.”

He hugs the smaller boy tenderly as he buries his nose into his neck, inhaling the sweet Armani cologne into his nostrils.

Perhaps he can love Niall, maybe not today, or next week, but sometime in the future.

-

As he looks into the sapphire orbs, a hand that isn’t his, fumbles with his curls distractingly. He rests head onto the Irish’s shoulder, breathing deeply as he rolls his thumbs.

It’s been two months, two months since he last spoke to Zayn. He’s not sure how he has been even able to escape him as much as he has. The only time that he actually sees the raven is when they’re both working in their office that they share. And whenever Niall comes in to press a quick peck at Harry’s temple, asking him if he wants to eat lunch with him, he hears how Zayn sighs loudly, eyes rolling, as he continues to type in numbers into the computer.

“You still haven’t talked to him, have you?” Niall wonders with pity in his voice.

“No, he hasn’t talked to me, so why should I try talking to him.” He says stubbornly as he looks up from his thumbs and meets Niall’s concerned eyes.

This is one of the many reasons why he didn’t wanted to be someone’s boyfriend, because he never wanted someone to intrude into his own personal space.

He’s not sure if they’re boyfriends, because they’re certainly more than just fuck-buddies. Even though they shag at least four times a week, Harry always ends up at his place and burst out all his problems to the smaller kid. And it’s difficult, because he’s always been a no-strings-attached-guy.

It feels weird that Niall’s always sticks around and listens to him. That he continues to sit and talk to him, even though Harry treats him like he’s nothing. He’s never had that with anybody, not even with his own mum, so it’s different than just friends with benefits. But he’s not certain that he wants them to be boyfriends either, because even though he’s almost sure that Niall doesn’t shag other people than him, he sure as hell fucks other guys besides the blonde.

“But don’t you think that you would feel better if you two just talked? I know that he’s not happy either, because we talked one day, and he said that he missed you.”

“You’ve talked to Zayn? Why did you do that, Niall? Damn it!” he exclaims as he throws his arms onto his thighs and rises up from the floor where they’ve cuddled.

“Because… because I want you to be happy Harry! Don’t you see that, don’t you see that that is the only thing that matters to me, that you’re happy?”

He only sighs as he reaches out a hand to him and embraces him into a hug. He whispers almost inaudible thanks, as he presses a peck on his earlobe. He can feel how Niall heat up under his touch, how he turns red as a tomato.

A giggle escapes the pink lips before he mumbles that it’s nothing. But it is something, and how much they both try to deny that it doesn’t mean anything, it does. Because when it all comes down to it, Niall has chosen to live with all these lies that Harry sheds, and Harry has chosen to let Niall inside of him, even though he’s terrified as fuck.

“I want you to meet my friends. They’re coming over for the weekend, and it would mean so much if you could see them.” He blushes.

“Why?” he asks suspiciously.

“Because… I want them to meet the guy I’m head over heels for.”

Harry only mumbles a small okay as he presses his body even closer to his. If it means so much to the Irish, then sure, he can meet his friends. It’s not like he’s going to introduce him as his boyfriend or anything.

Niall begins to kiss him slowly on his temple, arms around his neck as continues to move his lips in a slow rhythm down till he touch the corner of his mouth.

He doesn’t even beg him this time, he only lies down on the floor as his hair is scattered on the floor. _He’s so pretty,_ he thinks,  _he’s so damn pretty when he looks at me like this_. Carefully he sits down on his belly, knees beside Niall’s hipbones as he presses his nose against the Irish’s tiny one. He giggles highly, and it sounds so beautiful in Harry’s ears. Almost like a bell, singing in a church. And perhaps he’s not only pretty, but loveable too.

“I love you Ni, so damn much it hurts.” He whispers.

Both boys seem surprised by Harry’s confessing. Niall because he hadn’t ever expected to hear those three little words that mean so much, and Harry because he’s not even sure if it’s a lie or not. He’s so used to lying, that it’s sort of become natural to him.

“I love you too.” Niall replies, eyes shimmering as he captures Harry’s lips with his own.

 

Yet when he meets Niall’s two friends Liam and Louis at the train station, he tells them that ‘This is Harry, he’s my lover’.

He isn’t sure how to react, because he hadn’t expected him to say something like that. Even though he had confessed that he was in love with the blonde, he hadn’t meant that they were suddenly going to become boyfriends. It’s not that when you say you love someone, you actually mean that you want to be with them forever, being owned by them. It’s just some dumb word to express how he feels, and he’s not sure if he actually chose the right word when he told Niall it that time. Perhaps he should’ve said that he was fond of him, that he liked having him around. But when he thinks about how happy Niall had looked like when he had heard Harry say it, it makes him not wanting to take back the words just yet.

When he looks at the two brunettes, they look as surprised as him. The first one of them that brushes it off and shakes his hand is Louis.

He’s quite annoying, and he has a high-pitched voice. But he looks good; almost have a lady shaped body, two firm hips and trousers that grab his arse really nicely. He’s loud and chatty, but he at least makes everything seem a little bit less awkward.

Liam on the other hand isn’t as right forward; he only stands in the background and nods. And Harry can’t help it that he wants to drags his fingers over his shaved head, sucking that birthmark on his neck, as he would fuck him senselessly in one of the filthy toilets at the club.

“Oy, I think this is something to celebrate. Let’s party tonight, because Niall’s finally gotten himself a boyfriend, and a hot one on top of that!” Louis shouts.

Harry doesn’t even bother to correct him, that he isn’t Niall’s boyfriend. That he’s just his… long-time lover.

They lift up the two boys bags into the car before they drive to the older guy’s apartment, getting prepared for a wild night in central London. Harry can already feel his body getting ready to be drunk tonight.

-

He gives the bartender a few bills before he gives their little group the drinks. When he swallows his, it makes his entire throat feel dry, and suppresses the feeling by shoving his tongue into Niall’s mouth.

He can feel him smiling into the kiss; proud over that Harry’s finally kissing him openly, and in front of his friends too, makes his chest swell. If it had been a few months back, he would never had guessed that Harry would ever turn to this person who would show the whole world how much he loves Niall. The thought of it makes the Irish blush fiercely.

“I’m only going to the toilet, I’ll be back in a minute.” Niall says before he disappears in the crowd.

Harry meets Liam’s hazel eyes; he looks hungrily at him as he licks his lips. Harry would give everything if he could touch him right now; fuck him, as he could feel him inside of himself.

He doesn’t even care about Louis’ shocked gaze as Harry entwines his fingers with Liam’s, walks out onto the dance floor, and lets the music take over their bodies.

It’s like he forgets time when he feels Liam’s hand inside of his own jeans, grabbing his arse as he wears a smug smirk on his lips. Harry only replies it with grinding his hips onto Liam’s waist.

A quick moan escapes him, and he couldn’t care less whoever could see them right now. All he wants to do is to add another name to his fuck-list that’s being untouched for too long.

“I thought that you were together with Niall, yet you’re doing this to me.” The shaved boy claims.

“We’re not exclusive.”

“It didn’t sound like that when Niall told us about this fantastic British guy that’s stolen his heart.”

“We have two different perspectives of our relationship.” Harry explains annoyed.

The bloke was much hotter when he only kept his mouth closed, and he doesn’t even understand why he’s talking. They should be snogging by now, not talking about his ‘lover’.

“Niall!” Liam exclaims before he takes a step away from the taller curly haired.

Harry turns around, and a shocked face greets him. Louis is patting Niall’s shoulder as he looks furiously at Harry, not believing how someone can hurt his little friend so easily as the brunette just did.

Niall only shoves away Louis’ hand before he runs away, once again invisible through the wave of people.

“Fuck… Niall, wait!” he shouts in panic, not even bothering to glace at Liam’s hurt expression.

He’s never run this fast in his entire life, and it feels like it’s his last lifeline. It hadn’t been until he saw Niall looking so disappointed at him that he understood that he didn’t needed anyone, that only person he needed was Niall.

The air hits him in the face, and it’s so cold that it actually hurts like daggers. He should be lying at home, embracing the smaller boy, as Dusty would lie between them, craving for recognition.

He catches Niall’s hand, and his body is turned around hastily. Tears are streaming down his face, and it shouldn’t be allowed to see Niall cry like this. It’s absolutely heart breaking, and he’s never felt so guilty before in his whole life.

In this moment he agrees with Zayn, that he is indeed a selfish idiot, and that he should begin to think about others once in a while.

He tries to hug him, but only shoves away Harry’s arms. Pain is painted on his face, and Harry doesn’t know how to erase it from his sad expression.

“Why did you said that you loved me, when you clearly didn’t meant it?” he whimpers, not even being able to look at Harry as he feels like he’s going to vomit, because he’s so disgusted by the green-eyed.

“I did meant it!” he tries to reassure him, but not even Harry believes himself.

“No, you didn’t, ” he sobs loudly, “because otherwise you wouldn’t grind against my best friend when you’re supposed to be with me, I’m supposed to be good enough for you. So be honest to me, at least this one last time, why are you always lying to me all the freaking time?”

“Because, we need imagination to escape the dark and scary reality.”

“Yeah well, you can be in your own imagination by yourself from now on, because I’m done with you. I can’t stand feeling this bad all the time anymore, it’s slowly killing me, and I need to be happy, I  _deserve_ to be happy.”

Harry doesn’t even try to stop him when he storms out of the pavement, his broken heart’s pieces being spread over the dark asphalt. Instead he lets his own body fall down on the ground, and thick tears begin to fall down on the ground.

Niall is right; he’s supposed to be good enough for Harry. All his senses understand it finally.

His eyes sees this magnificent boy that always makes his inside feel warm even in the coldest winter, his ears hears this beautiful sound of him breathing, his tongue taste this amazing taste of sweet sugar and candy, he nose smells this really good scent of Armani cologne that’s making him dizzy when he inhales it, and when his fingers touch him, it’s the best feeling in the world when he can just hold him tightly against his body. How could he be so fucking stupid? He loves Niall, more than he loves anything in the world. He has just been so fucking scared all the time, and now it’s too late to tell him how much he really means to him.

He takes up his phone from his pocket, and he dials the only number that he really knows by heart. It takes a few seconds until he hears a husky voice in his ear, and he knows that he has just woken up the male.

“Hello?” the voice yawns.

“Zayn, I’ve done something terrible, and I need your help,” he sobs, “and I know that I’m not even in the place to ask for your help, because I’ve been such a shitty friend to you, but you’re the only one I can talk to right now.”

It’s silent in the speaker for a few minutes, and he’s certain that the raven has hung up on him. It isn’t until he hears him sigh and clear his throat that he still knows that he’s there.

“What have you done?”

“I think I’ve lost Niall forever… and I think I love him. No, I wait I know I’m in love with him, and I’ve always have been. I was just so fucking stupid to not realizing it before.”

“Just give him a few days to get through this, then you can tell him what you just told me.” Zayn says, as his voice gets louder. “And just so you know, I’ve missed you Haz.”

“I’ve missed you too Zayine.” He whispers in remorse.

They doesn’t say a word after that, only listens to each others breaths as they have their phones pressed to their ears.  _And perhaps this might be a new start for us,_ he thinks,  _because this time I’m not going to lie anymore._

-

It’s been a week in hell at the office, Niall has been hiding away like a mouse from him, and he can’t help that it hurts a little bit. But he deserves it, just like Niall deserves someone who can be honest with him all the time.

People have been rushing back and forward, and he knows it can’t be so, but it feels like they’re judging him by every step that he takes. He has even noticed a slight change in Mr Horan attitude towards him, that he’s more wane and his smiles never really reaches his ears anymore. 

Zayn’s been calling him a coward, and he hasn’t even tried to deny that. But he’s glad that he has his best friend back again, even though they’re still a bit rocky. And every time a mean sentence wants to be spitted out, Harry swallows it, because he’s trying to be a better person, and if not only for Niall, but for himself too.

“You need to man up.” Zayn says one day.

“What to you mean?” Harry asks depressingly.

“I mean just what I said, that you need to man up.” His gaze is determent, and it feels like those two months of arguing has never even happened. “Niall is a guy who needs romance, affection and love. He wants to be swoon, he wants you for once to show him how much you care about him, and not the contrary.”

“I-I, I guess your right.” He stammers before he falls down on his leather chair and stares into the wall. “I just don’t know what I am supposed to do. I’ve never tried to ‘swoon’ anybody before.”

“Buy him flowers, a bar of chocolate. And if you want to be really cheesy, you could even by him a teddy bear.”

He knows that Zayn is right, yet he feels really nervous to be so naked like he is right now. He’s always held back his emotions, to afraid to be the one who’ll get hurt, but he knows that if he wants Niall back, he has to at least try.

He doesn’t know if the blonde would like that advice like the raven just gave Harry, but he thinks he knows what it is that he has to do to make him understand how much he really means to him.

He drinks the coffee that Zayn has bought him, and this time it tastes a lot better than before. Even though there’s no whipped cream with milk, there’s at least sugar in it, and it’s the thought that counts.

 

When he’s done for the day at his work, and is on his way to go home to Dusty and eat a box of ice cream while he cuddles with the cat and cries to a bad girl movie on the telly, he sees a blond mess outside of the window.

He could recognise that mess of hair from miles away, so many times that he has buried his face in it, and it would be weird if he hadn’t.

He doesn’t even think, instead he just acts. Harry just runs the fastest he can out of the hallway. He’s been given a last chance, and he determent to not let this one slip away. He has to make him fall in love with him again, even though it feels impossible at the moment.

He tries not to think about if Niall choses to not be with him, and that he’s comprehended that he doesn’t need him, that it was Harry who needed him to save him all along and not the other way around.

“Niall, wait!” he shouts.

The shorter lad tenses as he turns around slowly. It must mean something that he doesn’t just run away, that he waits for Harry instead.

When he’s just a few meters away from him, he can’t understand how he actually was unsure if he loved the boy or not. What is there not to love? He’s got a funny accent, cute baby cheeks, and two fantastic blue eyes that he would even kill someone to possess.

When they stand there, just observing each other, he doesn’t know what to say. It’s like he’s been dumbstruck, and he can’t even move his fingers. He wishes that Niall will say just something, but he knows it’s him who has to do it if he ever wants the boy back.

“If you don’t have something to say, I think I’ll just go home.” He says irritated.

“Don’t go!” Harry exclaims. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have been treated that horrible way that you did by me. It’s just, I was so damn scared, scared of what I feel for you. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, but I did.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I made you fall in love with me. I’ll just go home so you don’t have to put up with me and my tricking you to have feelings for me.”

“I didn’t meant it like that. I’m happy that I fell in love with you, and that I still am. If I hadn’t, then I would never know how it feels to care about someone more than you care about yourself.” Harry says as he points on himself. “I’m standing here, giving myself to you, and ask you to accept me.”

Niall’s eyes trail up and down on him, watching him as if he should by a car or not. It feels a bit intimidating, but he chooses not to concentrate on that. Instead he concentrates on the dimples that’s slowly starting to appear on his cheeks, and by that, Harry knows that he’s forgiven.

“No more lies?” Niall asks unsure.

“No more lies.” He states truthfully.

He stumbles back as he feels Niall’s body being thrown at him, hugging him like it’s the last time, and drowning him by kisses. But he only chuckles lightly as he whirls the tiny body around in the air, like he’s a child, riding a carousel.

“I was beginning to believe that you would never come around.” Niall says softly as he kisses him on the head.

“Even if I wanted to, I would never be able to just stand beside and watch you fall in love with someone else.”

 

Harry’s not sure if it’s going to be them forever, but at the moment it doesn’t really matters. The only thing that is important is that he knows that he’ll try to make the other male feel as much loved as possible every day that passes by. And if he ever gets scared again, he’ll tell Niall it straight away instead of just blocking him out and slip in a white lie. From now on, he’s going to be as honest as possible, and if he’ll hurt his mother’s feelings about her food when he’s hung-over, so may it be.

Because he’s in love, and he’s finally happy, and if he could, then he would tell the whole world about it. 


End file.
